For exercise, I swim in a small pool in my back yard. My privacy is protected by a six-foot wood fence around the yard. Before stripping off my clothes and jumping in water, I place a bedside clock on the deck to keep track of my swim time.
My workout consists of swimming against a powerful current produced by an underwater pump. Wearing snorkel gear, I can stay submerged for a long time—coming up only when I want to check the time or when water seeps into the breathing tube.
One afternoon I am swimming—naked, as usual. When the breathing tube starts filling with water, I pop my head out.
What’s this? The clock is turned around!
I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what this means. Someone has come in the yard through the back gate, seen my backside surfacing in the pool, and decided that before leaving quietly he will turn the clock around.
Who could it be? Few people enter the yard without my permission. It can’t be the pool cleaner. It’s not his day. The yard maintenance guys were here earlier in the week. I haven’t called my handyman, a plumber, or an electrician.
I know only two friends who would look in my backyard when I don’t answer the doorbell. Oh, you rascals, I think. I decide not to call them but confront them in person. I want to watch their faces when I ask, “Did you come in my yard when I was swimming and turn my clock around?”
I do this, but it’s clear from their facial expressions that they are innocent.
Who, then? I doubt that the visitor was out for an erotic thrill because I am an overweight old lady. The only thing I know is, he has a sense of humor.
Fortunately, so do I.